told me it is that Philly shit.

I don't shake my hips, I'm

See Osama trouble boys in the trap before the rap told him.

Call me.

She know I'm there.

I think she feeling sick.

Can't pay, so why these out niggas on my fucking...

Got the butter, bag it up.

Now it's Doms in this scene, bro.

Turn a to a fucker.

Diamonds on my body and I'm feeling rich He said he don't like me, I told him shut up

We turn the fucking snitch.

Get killed right to the curb.

You ain't my fucking bitch.

Chopper so loud, now he a street fighter.

I'm trying to beat this nigga down like Chris

Pass the fucking lighter.

Pass the fucking lighter.

We keep shit explosive.

He told me spit a verse.

This shit is open.

We finna close it.

Talk on Dottie.

Get to throwing.

Go like Lottie.

We gon' poke.

He naughty bop.

Smoke them.

We got choppers.

We got motion.

C-I-O-S-O.

I sent a shot.

I was on that block for straight days and hours.

This is hard rock.

I ain't selling fucking powder.

Girl, rap, I'm living everything I'm saying in my song.

But if I cap, like.

Lyin' in my song, sick to the cold, stay no business, like a bro, I'm gon' perform.

All he ever write, he was my man.

You told me it is that Philly shit.

I don't shake my hips.

We see Osama trouble boys in the trap before the ride.